Welcome to Hell
by angels weep before they fly
Summary: JSP/OC- Exchange students never last long. I would know. Now I am one, and I'm worried about how long I'm going to last. Welcome to hell, Issy.
1. Welcome to the Train Station

Hi, I'm Rae, and this is my first story, Welcome to Hell. I've always loved the idea of James being the one to break the Potter curse, so... He will. Maybe. You'll have to wait and see!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP (As much as I'd like to)

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><p><strong><em>Issy<em>**

I don't know why I'm here.

Stuck in the middle of a train station, in the middle of _London,_ for goodness' sake. Mind you, it's not exactly like I can just go up to some random stranger and ask "Hi! Do you happen to know how I can get to a platform that isn't supposed to exist, so I can go to school and live the life of a character that's only real in fairytales? And nightmares." It would break the Statute of Secrecy to pieces. Not to mention I'd look like an idiot. Would it just be so har…? Well. Family of five + trunk (x 3) + owl + owl +… is that… a _ferret_? Equals positively, probably, maybe, God I hope they are a Wizarding family.

As one of the boys (he looks younger than me) runs through the _solid_ barrier, my fears are assuaged. For now. All that's left is a year, well, 6 months, of Hogwarts life. I'm in deep trouble. It's not every day I get invited to a foreign exchange program in _England, _of all places. If only Kate could see me now, so far from home, yet so confident (even if I do say so myself). It's a chance that half the students at Rosebank would die for. Or at least kill someone else. God, I'm rambling again. Have I mentioned I _really_ don't want to be here? Cause I _**really **_don't. Sort of. Since I've been off in Ramble-Land, most of the rest of the family has left, leaving only the oldest boy. He runs through the barrier into what I hope is Platform 9 and ¾. As he vanishes, I know I'm going to follow.

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><p>My name is Issy Anderson. Welcome to the train station, or in my view, the Place for Potential Embarrassing Conversations. (Don't worry, I have a guide to avoid this)<p>

Conclusion:

Know where you are going. Otherwise, you will just be standing around doing nothing constructive.

If you forget 1., act like you do. (See part 2 of 1.)

Watch and learn. No comment needed.

~Issy~


	2. Welcome to Boarding School

**A/N: **In this episode, we start to see more of Issy and her background. We start to touch on her home life and family, and understand why she is so confident on the inside, and shy to outsiders. We also get introduced to the Quintet, and a little bit of James' family. Issy starts at Hogwarts, but will she live up to the expectations set for her by the other students? Sorry for not updating sooner. I hope that the length might help? On another note, has anyone else fallen in love with One Direction? They're amazing, and a shout-out to my friends Bec and Edie (ily babes) for introducing me to them.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, it would not exist, cause I procrastinate _that_ much.

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><p><strong><em>Issy<em>**

"Need some help?" It's the guy from the platform. Interesting that I can remember that, really, cause I'm usually terrible with faces.

"Isabel? You here? And don't think I'm a stalker, cause your name's on your trunk"

What? Ok, so there's someone talking to me. Someone who just _happens_ to look _kinda_ like the Saviour of the Wizarding World (even in Australia I know of _him_. I swear my Wiz. History teacher's in love, the way she goes on). I don't even care. Not really. Back home, I've got enough friends that are well-known for some reason or another that it doesn't affect me anymore. Not that meeting the eldest of the Potter kids would be completely _normal._

After my in-head situation assessment, I feel that I have no choice but to accept. I'm on the market for a new best friend, and, well, I _am _having trouble with my trunk (why do these things not have wheels?) and managing to also carry my guitar case with me. So… why not?

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><p>Following my 'new best friend', as James has (rather appropriately) named himself, into a compartment, I seem to notice one thing. That is, one thing before I'm swept into a massive hug that takes my breath away. Literally- not the 'I'm in love kind'. Stepping back, I glance around the compartment to introduce myself to James' friends- two boys, two girls. It was a team of five, and just by looking at them, I can tell that they're very close.<p>

"Dominique. My cousin", James explains, gesturing to the girl who had practically tackled me as soon as she saw me. "She's a hugger. It's what she does to everyone she meets", he states, accepting his own hug-of-death from the strawberry-blonde girl. While James was… incapacitated, all the other occupants start to introduce themselves, too. _Finally._ I get to meet James' famous friends that he's talked to me non-stop about. Fred and Lorcan are the other two boys, and the other girl is Sophie. I like her immediately. I like to think that I'm a good judge of character, and her quiet confidence and laid-back 'I simply don't care' attitude remind me jarringly of myself back home. For now, I sit by her and James, who has long since recovered from his cousin's attack. (Honestly, that girl is _strong_!)

It's only been 2 days since I flew in from Sydney Airport, so the time here feels like 9 at night, when it's really only midday. I…need…sleep… But I can't. It would be awkward if I fell asleep here and then started to sleeptalk, because who _knows _what would come out of my sleep-deprived mind and get pushed into the real world through the power of unconscious speech. Joy. So I listen in vaguely on the conversations around me, focusing in only once when I hear my name.

"She's gotta be Gryff…"

"Pride of Portr… win the season"

"Issy's too _nice_ to be Slytherin."

"But what if…?

"I'm telling you, she _is._ There's just something about her, you know? Even in the hour I've known her, she's seemed like one. Too outgoing to be Hufflepuff, don't know if she's got the brains for Ravenclaw."

"I s'pose. Be awkward, wouldn't it? To be sorted among all the first years. What house d'you reckon Lily's going to be in?"

"For the sake of my family, I hope she's Gryffindor, but… she's smart enough to be Ravenclaw. Aunt 'Mione's been tutoring her and Hugo now that Rose's left."

"Xannie's going to be Gryffindor too. There's no other house for her to be in, knowing her."

Both of them, dark haired James and bright, flaming haired Fred are laughing. They're cousins, I know, and when you've known each other as long as they have, there's a bond there, unbreakable. If it weren't for the fact that they look nothing alike, I could have sworn they were twins. I wish I had that kind of relationship with my brother. He's older, though, so it's no surprise that we aren't close. Having a 17 year old brother makes you tough, though. At least for me- Liam's always been my mentor, the person I tried to be like when I was younger. I'd like to think he's changed my personality from what it would have been… if… I wish I had that kind of relationship with my sister… but we don't talk about her. She was me, but blonde, dark eyes. My opposite, yet we were so alike. If only… But we don't talk about _her_… anymore.

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><p>As the train slows, I realise that I've lost myself in reminiscing and in my train of thought once again, as is so common for me. It's dark when I step outside, perhaps reminding me just <em>how<em> long I was in La-la land for. Since I'm not first year, I won't be taking the boats, a fact that Dominique lamented about, both in rapid English, and even faster French (guess my junior school French paid off!) Apparently the view from the lake of Hogwarts is beautiful. I can hazard a guess that it is, but seeing as it's raining- not heavily, but enough to be uncomfortable- I would rather _not_ go on a boat, no matter how _"__très__ belle"_ the view is.

Mind you, the carriages aren't that dry either. And those are some damn ugly horses pulling them. Makes me think that they aren't horses at all. And there's just some feeling… what if I _am_ in Slytherin? From the conversations and the disgusted tone that they used when talking about the last house, I get the feeling that they aren't very well liked. Their words come back to me- "They're not as bad as they _used_ to be…"

"Well, they're pretty bad now!"

I don't want to be in Slytherin. I wonder if this is what it's like for all the first-years. Stupid calm friends. _They _don't have to worry about what house they're going to be in, or how embarrassing it's going to be when they're Sorted among people that are at least a foot shorter than them.

But when I get to the castle, it's that last fear that I really don't have to worry about. The Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, intercepts my walk into the castle with a smile (something that James later tells me is something very rare for her.) Apparently I'm to be Sorted separately, something that makes my day just a bit easier.

In a small room just off the Entrance Hall, McGonagall leads me to a frayed hat on a stool.

"The Sorting Hat", whispers James. In all my stressing about Slytherin and potential embarrassment, I hadn't noticed that they'd followed me in here. At least it's not the whole school.

All I have to do is try it on? It sounds too easy. For an all-magic school, I expected something different for Sorting.

"_You're old."_

Ex_cuse _me? As soon as I try that hat on, a voice resounds- in my head.

"_Older than the usual ones I see. Where to put you? You're clever… remarkably so. But loyal, and brave. Ambitious, too- you've done a lot to get what you want, eh? Where to put you? You could belong in any, but two suit you the most. Hard decision. Do you want to be with your friends? I can see that you don't want to let them down… no. I know where you belong. Your new family will be…"_

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Sorry for the cliffie. It just seemed easier to end it there.

Update- 5/September/2011:  
>Please R&amp;R. Until I started writing, I never really knew how important reviews actually are to the author. Sorry to those who put this on alert. Next chapter should be up soon- was away all last week. Did I mention how much I despise school camp?<p>

~Rae~


	3. Welcome to Your Family

**Welcome to Your Family**

or

_**Stop the arguments, Issy...**_

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm back! Well, you might know that anyway, due to the one-shot I posted two weeks ago. Look it up! I'm kinda sorry for not updating _this_ story in a while. *I feel terrible*. I only have an alibi for 3 weeks ago (school camp), as **shimmeringbubbles** can tell you, but not for any time after that. So I apologise (profusely), and I hope that you enjoy the chapter…

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated (ooh, big word!) with it :(

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><p>"<em>Gryffindor!"<em>

That smile I can see on James' face just makes up for every little bit of worry I'd been facing about my House placement. Sophie looks happy too, but… it's not her face that I looked to first, no matter if she was the person that I'd talked to the most since the Platform. There was no need for words in the moment, and every single person (myself included) practically _oozed_ happiness.

Ok, so that might be a bit of an overstatement. But they all look happy that I'm _officially_ a Gryffindor. And the conversation between my housemates as we leave for the Great Hall of Edible Goodness confirms it (though James may have more than one reason for his joy). When Lorcan bounds up to us, he holds out his hand in expectation to James.

"She made it, Scamander." There is an expression of major shock, mixed with happiness, and also annoyance. I suppose that the latter is due to the 10 galleons that he just lost due to the bet I just found out about, that I should be mad about, but am just too happy, hungry and tired to care. What a combo.

"Issy's one of us now!" The excited squeal of Sophie.

"She got in?" A question posed by Fred.

I stride away from the group's chatter, trying to find Dominique among the crowd of people. Thankfully, her bright strawberry blonde hair stands out among the people seated at the table on the far left of this gigantic hall, with the night sky above us, and candles all around. (OH&S? Those could get dangerous. But with magic, I doubt they will.) When everyone is seated, I take the time to look around. It's not as big as back home- not as many students as I thought. The magical community mustn't be very large here, then. With all the stories, I expected more people- on estimation, there are a maximum of 50 per year. Considering we've got over a hundred each back home at Rosebank… It just seems small. I suppose it's really another thing that I have to get used to, though. Professor McGonagall is at the front of the room as the first of the first years come through the doors- most of them looking as nervous as I was before I was Sorted into Gryffindor, like I was always meant to be. Sucks to be you, firsties.

As each kid comes up, ("Ariel Elliot, Slytherin!") I can sort of see what house they _could _be in. ("Jason Ledger, Ravenclaw!") One kid with a perpetual smirk on his face would be Slytherin. ("Ruby Li, Gryffindor!") Another who rushes to help when a girl trips over is a Hufflepuff.

When Fred, James, Dominique and a lot of the Gryffindor table sits up in expectation at the name 'Lily Potter', I know that this is James' sister, the one they were discussing on the train. The hall fell silent- even after the kind helper (Annaliese Parker)'s Sorting into Ravenclaw (_damn, I was wrong_) that a table had cheered for- "It's stupid, isn't it? The way they all revere the Potters", I whispered to Lorcan, who just nodded his head in assent, before staring intently at the red-haired girl up front, who didn't actually seem that nervous compared to all the other firsties. The real shock is when she's announced not to be in Gryffindor, like her brothers, but Ravenclaw. The house is cheering loudly for her as she skips off, perfectly content, and a beaming smile as she sits down next to a much older red-haired girl that looks like some sort of relation. There is no smile on James' and his brother's face, though. Just a look of extreme and utter shock that their sister didn't make it into the House they wanted her to be in (Slytherin, of course). I had no idea of why most of the cousins were upset. The puzzlement must have shown, because a moment later, Fred (one of the only ones genuinely happy) leans over and enlightens me.

"They think our streak's over. Al was the last Gryffindor we've had in the family. Sophie and I are the only ones without a sibling in another house. Mind, she's an only child, so she doesn't count." he mutters. I have so many questions.

"Al?"

"James' brother. Most idiotic name ever. I question every day what his parents were on, naming him something like that."("Adam Sung, Slytherin.")

"_Albus Severus._ Poor kid." He's grinning, lost in memories, and I have to agree with his summary of the name. If my parents called me that, I'd probably change it as soon as I could.

"Lorcan has a sibling? _Dominique does?_" I asked, incredulous that her parents could actually handle two of her. Fred points at the Hufflepuff table, where he's right, a carbon copy of Lorcan sits, staring bemusedly off into space (who knows what's there).

"Lorcan…" There's a pause, in which Fred thinks, as Verity Thomson becomes a Hufflepuff, trying, I imagine not to insult anyone, "is the sane one in his family. I honestly don't see that he is part of them at all. If I hadn't seen pictures, I wouldn't have believed it. But there you go. Lorcan the almost-claw and his crazy family." I decide to leave the almost-claw thing out, because really, it's something I may not want to know about.

"-And from calm, laid back, aimless Lysander, to-"

"Hey! Don't talk about him like that! Or anyone else! Aunt Angeli…"

"Her.", Fred finishes with an amused glare at Dominique.

"Brother, Louis, Ravenclaw, second year. Sister, Victoire, ex-Gryffindor, 2 years of freedom, engaged to Auror Teddy Lupin as of about 3 weeks ago. God, she _gushes _over everything now."

It's strange, imagining an older version of Dominique, calm enough to be _engaged_ to someone. (Weasley, Hugo) I'm torn from my thoughts of a calm Dom (impossible!) by another familiar last name. The hat is only on his head for a few seconds before it shouts:

"Gryffindor!"

Just like it had for me. We aren't the only ones cheering, though. Six Ravenclaws, half with flaming red hair, start clapping for him as well, happy for their- whatever relation he is to them. The person is so obviously not bothered; 'I don't really care what house I'm in' personality. In fact, I'm convinced she's going to be a Slytherin until her name's read out- "Roxanne Weasley", and she's Sorted into Gryffindor as soon as the hat touches her head, and Fred is beaming at me from across the table as she sits next to him, happy that his baby sister's in his house…

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><p>I honestly cannot remember much more of that night. I do remember the food was lovely. I remember the long walk back to the common room. The last thing I remember was falling asleep in a warm, comfortable bed in a dormitory with other girls in my year. The jetlag had finally gotten to me, I supposed, as I woke up the next morning, significantly less tired than the night before, which I was significantly glad for, as classes would start today. I can't help but wonder whether the classes would be much harder than the 'half-hour hell', as it was affectionately called by the Barton kids at Rosebank, that the Barton, or magical students were given for their collective magic lessons at the beginning and end of the school day back home. I doubted it, though I was probably far behind everyone else. Waking up at my usual time of 5 every morning helps- I'm only late in my morning schedule by three-quarters of an hour or so.<p>

By the time I get back from my routine, everyone else is up and nearly dressed in the uniform that I have to deal with for the next year. It's not so bad, really, just a lot heavier than the uniform I'm used to, and a lot less colour. The robes are something I'm going to have to get used to, but not everyone wears them to every class (I'm reminded of the Rosebank blazer) so I doubt that I will either because seriously- they don't look that pretty and it just _detracts_ from the whole aesthetic appeal of the uniform- whatever's left of it anyway.

Everyone's talking to each other at breakfast, discussing timetables and new electives and it's _just so loud. _Who would have thought that that little people could make that much noise? The rest of the group finds me with an extra schedule in their hands, not looking too happy with the day they've been given, as a guess to their bad mood. I quickly see why. From the others' point of view, it might seem like a bad day, what with History of Magic, Transfiguration (and for me, Arithmancy) all in one day, but it's not really that bad. I mean, I've always liked maths, and for the others, it's just a matter of perspective.

History of Magic first period is with Hufflepuff. I suppose that's not too bad, because at least they aren't sullen or hostile like some other house *cough_slytherin_cough*. Dom was right, it _is_ as boring as hell, but for some reason I manage to stay mostly awake while around me the rest of the class is using the time to catch up on sleep. Listening to the stories from a much differing perspective- where the history was more relevant than our limited one in Australia.

On my way to Transfiguration, there is a clamour a-clamouring in the halls. As we near the source of the argument and manage to hear what the two are saying, Dominique herds me away, her face drained of all colour, muttering under her breath:

"They can't have found out. Oh, God, Lorcan's going to _kill _me- or him- is that worse- no, me, I'll be dead." I'm actually quite worried for her, and before she dragged me towards second period- Transfiguration- I managed to see that the noise was between two blonde boys who both looked exactly like each other, and familiar to me.

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><p><strong>AN:** Well, I know it's obvious who the argument was between, but who or what was it _about_? Review with the answer. Clue- it was alluded to in the Sorting Feast. Originally, I didn't plan for this to come out so early, but it wanted to be there now, so... it is!

~Rae


	4. Welcome to Extended Education

**A/N: **So I've changed my username. I know that this might be a bit confusing for you, but I don't think I'll change it anytime soon now. I'm happy to not be a number anymore! So if you're reading this because you got some random story alert from an author you didn't know, that's the reason why. I may not update as regularly as before, but it should be bearable. I hope. In this chapter, Issy is hungry, James is sarcastic, there are a lot of ellipses, and everyone is confused, whether it be about argument content, famous Muggle in the fiction business or their role in their family.

**Disclaimer:** idon'townharrypotter (asmuchasiwishidid)

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><p>Of course, I know <em>exactly<em> what the argument is about (Goodness knows, she hasn't been exactly secretive about it. I mean, it's not like I've known her for more than a day at most, and I can still tell.)

"Dom…" I ask, lining up outside Transfiguration, closely followed by the twins, Lorcan and Lysander, both resolutely determined to look anywhere but each other. There are name cards at every table- I am thankful that I'm paired with someone that I actually know, rather than someone who is a total stranger to me. Professor McGonagall starts to teach us how to turn a hedgehog into a pincushion- theory only, and about a minute or two after she's started, I am completely confused. This is a _Wizarding school._ Surely they must be ahead of a halfer school like us! A quick glance around the room shows a complete class of confused faces like mine (but I bet it's because they don't _understand_). There's only one thing to do- work on my Transfiguration from home. That is, until…

"Miss Anderson. I do understand that you are new to Hogwarts, however, I would think that even at your other school it would be expected of the students to _pay attention!" _McGonagall's scary when she's telling you off, and now she's walking over here, no doubt to give a lecture on the benefits of listening. I don't give her time to start.

"I've learnt this already. 'Few months ago, actually. That's why I'm reading", I say, holding up my textbook, open to the page on Animate Transfiguration _(more concentration is needed to transfigure your object into a living creature…)_. Her face is unreadable, and for one split second, I almost think that she's going to go off at me. Then she smiles, an apparently rare occurrence, and tells me to continue, but not before giving me a small statue of a snail to practise on. James, beside me, just gives me an astonished look before turning back to the front. I smile too. _Maybe this year won't be so bad._

I still hadn't managed to transfigure my statue into a real snail. So far, all I'd managed was to make it all soft and squishy, and when James touched it (why, oh why) his finger trailed slime. All in all, I was quite proud of my progress, and when the lesson was over, I couldn't help but grin. It wasn't alive, but it was better than nothing, and certainly better than I could have expected. I think my good mood has enhanced my ability, and right now, my mood is even better, due to the prospect of food in my immediate future.

"I should take Divination." A smirking James catches up to me after I rush out of class. I'll humour him.

"And why is that?"

"Because, Isabelle, I can read your mood. You're hungry."

"No kidding, Sherlock! And it's not _'Isabelle' _in that haughty manner." His face is one of total confusion. _Must be another thing that wizards here are sadly deprived of. _"You have been limited in your literature. Sherlock Holmes is only one of the greatest detectives in literature's _history._ Tied for first with Poirot. Genius, the people who came up with them." I end my soliloquy on fictional detectives with a sigh, but my mind is still racing with questions about the contents of the Hogwarts library regarding Muggle books. Both James and Fred, who has by now joined the conversation as we walk into the Place at Where I Can Eat (I still don't know the actual name. I think it's like the Great Hall or something, but I like my names better.)

While I'm busy stuffing my face with everything I can find _(it's so good…)_, along with most of the guys, nearly all the girls my age or older are just sitting there, eating half a sandwich each. I have no idea how they can function properly during the day. I certainly can't, and I'm glad that Sophie, next to me, has no such qualms about weight gain like the others around us, even though she isn't scarfing it down like me. Rather, she's finished, and just _stares_ at me and the guys with a disgusted expression.

"Whaa? I'b hun'y!" So speaking with a mouth full of food may not be too elegant. I can understand why she promptly gets up and leaves to sit somewhere else.

"Honestly? I thought that gaining another girl would _help_ the food etiquette around here."

"Hello, Dominique."

"Hello, pigs. Or should I say, oink squeal. " she says, dryly. I know she's joking, that it's a reference to the amount of food we're eating because, well, that's just Dom.

"Why're you late to lunch?" Fred asks, like it's not obvious. The weird thing is, Lorcan seems confused too, which is strange, because I saw Lysander _try_ to sneak in after Dom and Lorcan frowning at him as he sat down with the Hufflepuffs. God, these boys are thick.

"Umm… well, I… don't really… Library?" she finishes, with a sheepish look on her face, staring absentmindedly towards the Hufflepuff table. If they didn't before, James, Fred and Lorcan definitely knew that she was hiding something from them now. I guess it was obvious on their faces, or perhaps it was a regular event, but Dom grabbed as much food as she could carry properly before sprinting out of the room, closely followed by the trio of boys. And me, I just sat there, eating. But I'm not fat. I promise.

I made my way to the library for the rest of lunch, and my free period. Since I could only take electives that I'd done something in before, I could only take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Since the Fourth Year classes now weren't any of those, I was given a free period to catch up on work I'd missed, which now ended up as a mixture of studying to keep up at Rosebank level and reading to calm my mind. It was a great way to end the day of work, and I thanked my lucky stars that I actually had it, in comparison to the rest of my year. It was just me and a couple of sixth-year Ravenclaws in the library, and the quiet was welcome. I had time (finally) to reflect on everything that had happened in my time here already. Finally, I was somewhere where I could be free, free from people concerned for my well-being and how I was coping. Finally, I could heal. Among the peace, quiet and serenity. That is, until the whole group (Sophie, Dom, James, Fred and Lorcan) comes and clatters their books down on the table, and there starts to be a rumble of noise from the first- and second-years that have finished all their lessons for the day. Lucky them. We've still got 2 more to go, and then, just because McGonagall must like torturing us, the fourth-years have Astronomy tonight. _Go figure._

But I follow James, Sophie and Lorcan down to Arithmancy, while the others go to Divination, even though I don't know why they do it, and prepare to lose myself in the wonder that is Arithmancy- no subjective answers, just facts, and logic and formulae. Perfect for what I need right now- no emotions needed. As we set about trying to figure out the value of '_x_' compared to _'k' _and '_z'_, I know that, though I haven't got an advantage through previous learning, I can plough through, just like the rest of the class. With added blank look of confusion. But I am not a quitter. I will see this through until the end, no matter how confusing it is- I had thought that it would be just like normal maths at home, but here it goes further- the magical qualities of every number, and the logicality of future paths using number probabilities. Bleh, it really is just logical Divination. But it's mindless and repetitive, and numbery, so I can't complain. I got what I asked for.

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><p>Later that night, the crowds in the common room have thinned, as the younger kids have gone up to bed already. It's a relaxed atmosphere, but I can't help but think that there's someone missing. And true to that, I can't find James anywhere. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since dinner, when the Evening Post arrived. None of the others seem even remotely worried, and I'm debating whether to ask them when I do, I see him, head in hands in a corner that was blocked by a group of second-years now moving to bed. I've actually got <em>no idea<em> what could have happened. He really looks in need of some help. Or, at least some sort of comfort.

"Stay back, Issy. He's fine." So they _have_ noticed, have they? Well, I think that they need to pay more attention to their friends!

"He's _fine,_ Issy. Just… something his parents send him every year. The annual 'namesake letter', if you will. He just gets a bit sad about it sometimes. Nothing to worry about."

"Really? Well, I moved here to get away from people worrying about me. But this is completely different, that boy actually _looks_ like he needs help, and the people that he calls his friends are just saying that he's _fine_!" I'm whisper-yelling now, and I know I shouldn't let my emotions get the better of me, especially with the few friends I've been lucky enough to gain. But it worked, if the sheepish looks on their faces are anything to go by. Fred gets up, shrugs and leaves. Lorcan gives a gesture that I take to mean 'go on, but don't blame us if it doesn't work.' So I do.

I've seen enough people like this, myself included after… Bella, to know not to initiate the conversation. So I sit, just watching everyone in the room. Dom, Sophie and Lorcan are staring straight at me, and when I give a raised-eyebrow smile, they flinch and look away, but not before shrugging at me, as if saying that they knew it wasn't going to work.

"You can read it, if you want." James' voice cuts in. He pushes a piece of paper over the table towards me and leans back in his chair, still wearing the same sad expression as before.

_James,_

_We hope your first day back was wonderful. Don't worry, we won't write to you too often, we promise! That is, unless you start playing jokes on innocent bystanders again. Just because you bear the name of two of the most infamous Hogwarts pranksters in the school's history, does not give you permission to be the same! And your Aunt Angelina wishes you to pass this message on to Fred, too. We always knew you two would be trouble. Pass our greetings on to Neville, Dominique, Sophie and Lorcan, as well as anyone else we've forgotten, as we haven't seen them in such a long time._

_We would ask you to take care of your sister for her time in Gryffindor, but the task should probably go to Al, as the more mature of you two. Even so, if you do see her in trouble, take time out from your trouble-making and please help her. The first year in Hogwarts is always one of the hardest, as you might remember. Don't try to terrorise the first-years _too _much, at least not for the first few weeks. Hogwarts is hard enough for them without you helping the natural order._

_Love,_

_Mum & Dad_

_**P.S- James, **_

_**I've been given a few lines to add in of my own here. Don't worry about your mother, she's just overprotective, and I'm sure Lily will be fine. I know your mum would disapprove, but can you ask Fred to send her a toilet seat for Christmas? I'm sure it would make her laugh (and me too, now that you think about it). As we said above, don't get too many detentions, stay out of trouble (as much as you can) and do your work. **_

_**-Dad**_

"What the hell is this all about? 'Stay out of trouble' 'playing jokes on innocent bystanders _again_'?" I am so confused. What is the point of this letter, and why is it making out James as some sort of juvenile delinquent and the person himself look like he just killed a puppy?

"They… expect me to be… this rebel, who doesn't pay attention in class, who does all this stupid stuff. And Al, too. He's supposed to be perfect and quiet and _mature_, but he's not! He's not who they think he is, and neither am I! I'm just sick of it, sick of all of it, those expectations, and having to try to fake myself to live up to my name, even! You wouldn't understand."

"What _you_ don't understand", I start, "is that I actually do. At least, part of it- having massive expectations to try to fulfil."

His head snaps up at my words, and I take this as a good sign.

"Rosebank… my school, is a very, _very _competitive environment. Just to get in, you have to fulfil _so many_ expectations! My parents sent my brother and my sister and me to music and sport and academic tutors from the age of three. They expect us to be the best. And we are. But we_ work_ for it- so hard and we strive to reach our goals, because… well, that's how we _will_ be the best. But we want it. My brother and I, we want it so bad. And my parents want it too, so they push us, push us to succeed. Your parents just want the best for you. But if you're really worried… just _show_ them that you aren't who they think you are. It's not healthy for anyone, pretending to be someone you're not just for show. Believe me, I've tried."

James' face is thoughtful, and I have no idea how much of my motivational speech actually got through to him, because he really hasn't moved much. I have no idea what else to say, so, getting up of my chair, I head off towards the girl's dorms, nodding to Sophie, Dom and Lorcan as I pass them. It's so soft, I can't be sure if it was actually there, but at the division between the two staircases, there's a voice, quiet, reflective.

"Goodnight, Issy." I smile.

"'Night, James."

**A/N: **:) I love this last scene. It makes me smile.


End file.
